


A Fire Burning

by they_hear_the_music



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Carver and Bethany are both alive, Drinking at the Hanged Man, F/F, Fluff, M/M, no bad things happen ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7361548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/they_hear_the_music/pseuds/they_hear_the_music
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was always a fire burning in Anders' eyes, bright and terrible at times, warm and loving at others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fire Burning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesewersofparis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesewersofparis/gifts).



> first time writing for this fandom but since fenders has become my otp i thought id give it a shot  
> shout out to my [memefriend/beta/bestie](http://thesewersofparis.tumblr.com) youre amazing!!

There was a fire burning in Anders' eyes.

It had been the first thing Fenris had noticed about the other, years ago when they had met for the fist time. Back then Fenris had hated this righteous fire, unable to see any reason why it should be burning for the cause of an apostate. Only with time he had realized how similar Anders' call for freedom and equality was to what Fenris himself had been longing for. Their friendship had formed slowly and grudgingly, both having to learn to respect the other. But with time the insults grew weaker and the looks they gave each other grew fonder. Until their anger and tension was replaced by something else, something gentler and deeper.

 

Not many people looked up when their merry band of misfits, as Varric had so accurately put it, entered the Hanged Man. At this point, most of Kirkwall was used to their little group, rarely anyone batting an eye at the Champion of Kirkwall, two elves, a dwarf and three humans hanging out like it was the most natural thing, usually appearing in varying stages of drunk. Aveline had left them after their mission today, wanting to get back home to her husband early, but for some unknown reason Carver had joined them, already well on his way of getting into an argument with Anders. He was going on about something Knight-Captain Cullen had said and how it proved that the templar order was a fundamentally good organization, even if some of them strayed from the path by being harsher than necessary like Knight-Commander Meredith, who according to Carver still meant well. Anders' remarks to that were cold and predictably annoyed, pointing out all the abuse a circle mage would be exposed to even under the best possible version of the templar order.

Isabela went straight for the bar, ordering the horrendous ale served in the Hanged Man.

“How you can tolerate this piss is beyond me,” Hawke said before turning to the barman. “Two more,”she ordered.

Fenris sat down at their usual table, knowing that Varric would order some wine for him if he didn't do it himself. Merrill slid in the seat next to him, both of them content with silently watching their weird friends get drinks as they waited for them.

“I'm not drinking this,” Carver said and took the seat opposite of Fenris, when his sister put down one of her two tankards in front of him.

“Don't have the stomach, little brother?” Hawke asked innocently and Carver immediately downed his drink, while he glared at her over the rim of his glass. Hawke just laughed as she sat down next to Isabela, slinging an arm around one of her girlfriends, before taking a swig of the ale herself.

“Disgusting as ever,” Hawke said and managed to sound delighted about the fact.

Varric and Anders sat down as well, taking the short ends of the table and the latter letting his knee bump against Fenris' under the table. _Good fight today. Glad you’re still in one piece._ Fenris reached for the wine and poured himself a cup before in return pressing his knee against Anders' for a few seconds. _Right back at you._

Carver crashed the empty tankard back down on the table, still glaring at his sister, who in turn lifted hers in salute, before finishing her ale as well.

“You okay there, Junior?” Varric asked, not sounding the least bit concerned. “Hanged Man Ale is not for everyone.”

“I am fine,” Carver spat back, obviously hurt in his pride, his face having taken on an unhealthy pale color. He looked half ready to hurl and one hundred percent ready to fight anyone who would point that out to him.

“How is it going with you anyway?” Hawke asked, changing the topic. “I rarely see you since you've joined the templars.”

Fenris could almost feel Anders tense up at the reminder of Carver's chosen profession, but Carver himself didn't notice. Neither Hawke nor Merrill had ever been confronted with the horrors of the circle and the chantry like Anders had, both mostly at ease with Carver around. For Anders it was harder, and when Fenris thought about what he would have done if Carver had somehow managed to become a Magister he was almost impressed with the restraint Anders was capable of showing. Fenris let their knees bump once more, not missing the small smile Anders gave him in return, his tension easing up a bit.

“We've had our hands full with this underground mage ring we've been tracking,” Carver told them now. His eyes narrowed and he gave his sister a suspicious glare. “You wouldn't know anything about it, would you?”

Hawke put her hand over her chest as an obviously fake gasp escaped her lips. “Me? Brother, I am appalled, what do you think of me?”

Carver looked unimpressed while Varric snickered.

“Anders, have you heard who he thinks we associate with? Rouge mages! Such audacity!”

“I heard, Hawke, and I, too, am appalled.” Anders told Hawke in the same fake offended tone. “I can almost not believe my ears.”

Fenris finished his cup of wine, immediately refilling it, while the people he had started to call friends continued their shenanigans. Carver dropped the talk about his templar work and instead talked about his twin sister's last letter from the wardens. That prompted Merrill to ask Anders more about being a Gray Warden, while her girlfriends got themselves into a drinking game with Varric, soon joined by the way too easily challenged Carver. It took them about half an hour before Carver was sleeping on the table, Isabela had obvious problems staying upright as Hawke was uncontrollably giggling into her shoulder over whatever story Varric was telling now. Under the table Anders had hooked his foot around Fenris' ankle, their legs pressed close as Anders was laughing along with Varric's story while Fenris hid his own smiles behind his cup.

They broke up their little get together soon after, not without Hawke organizing a bucket of water from somewhere to wake her brother up with. Carver was still cursing when they all went their separate ways, following his sister, who along with Isabela had wrapped herself around Merrill. All three of them looked ready to fall over any second as they stumbled down the street in the direction of Hightown, a wet, angry Carver right behind them.

Now, with the fresh air, Fenris could feel his own intoxication, swaying a bit when Anders knocked their shoulders together.

“You going home?” Anders asked.

Fenris gave that a moment to think about before shaking his head and turning towards the quickest rout to Anders' clinic, tugging the other along by his sleeve. Anders laughed. A quiet laugh, fond and private and Fenris allowed himself to smile as an answer. They walked down the street in comfortable silence, their shoulders brushing from time to time.

 

Much later Anders was vast asleep at his side, his head pillowed on Fenris' arm, while Fenris had lost himself in staring down a dark spot on the ceiling, his hand absentmindedly playing with a strand of Anders' hair.

He wasn't really thinking about anything, when Anders made a noise in his sleep and burrowed closer. Fenris turned his head to look at his sleeping face. Even asleep Anders didn't look at peace, his eyes wandering behind closed lids and his mouth moving slightly. Fenris rolled to his side and pressed a kiss on Anders' forehead, easing the frown a bit.

There was always a fire burning in Anders' eyes, bright and terrible at times, warm and loving at others. Anders lived in a world of no compromises - not about his causes and not in his love for the people he cared about. Fenris did not hate the fire anymore, now understanding the passion behind it and even feeling something quite opposite of hate when Anders' eyes met his own, the fire burning with the desire for equality.

One day Anders would go to war with the world and the knowledge that Fenris would stand at his side both frightened and reassured him in a way.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me [here on tumblr](http://they-hear-the-music.tumblr.com) should you want to say hi! :>


End file.
